Misfortune of a Weasley
by SerpentClara
Summary: Ron and Hermione's tragic breakup. An enraged Hermione decides to give her insensitive boyfriend a lesson. A certain Death Eater witnesses the scene and, impressed by her ruthlessness, offers to help her get revenge. LM/HG, dark comedy.


Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and its components, including characters, places and spells, belong to their creator, J. K. Rowling. No copyright or trademark infringement is meant with this work.

**Summary****:** Post-HBP attempt at crackfic featuring Ron and Hermione's tragic break-up. An enraged Hermione decides to give her insensitive boyfriend a good beating. A certain Death Eater witnesses the scene. Impressed by her ruthlessness, he offers to help her get revenge ...

Inspired by plot bunny #31 from the Lucius/Hermione Plot Bunny List on astarvingwriter's LJ.

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_**Misfortune of a Weasley**_

"We're like Mum and Dad, we bicker all the time – it's cool, actually, makes life interesting. Come on, Hermione, don't tell me it isn't fun!"

"The problem, Ron Weasley, is that you're the most boring person I've ever had the misfortune to meet. Even _arguing _with you is boring."

Silence followed that statement. Ron gaped at his girlfriend. He looked like a fish, a disgusting, dead, ugly fish with a reddening face and a lot of freckles.

Hermione sighed in exasperation. Why had she gone to Hogsmeade with Ron only so that they could yell at each other on the streets? Hermione abhorred quarrelling in public, but she wasn't about to stay silent and let Ron think he had won. Not that anyone was here to hear them – it was nightfall and the street seemed deserted.

"Boring?" Ron said in disbelief once he had recovered from gaping, "_You_ are the one who spends every weekend with your nose buried in a bloody _book_ and you call _me_ boring!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed furiously. "You're the one who always copies off me! I bet you wouldn't have passed a single OWL if it hadn't been for my notes –"

"Oh yeah?" said Ron. "So you think I'm stupid, _know-it-all_?"

"That's exactly what I was talking about. You have no respect for me," she said sadly. "There can be no lasting relationship without respect, Ron."

Ron stared at her blankly. Apparently, the concept of 'respect' was too hard for him to understand. So he did the only thing that came to mind at the moment. Too bad it only reinforced Hermione's point.

"I'm sure you won't think I'm boring after this." And he crushed his lips to hers in a wet, sloppy kiss.

When he drew back, Hermione wiped her mouth, disgusted. "You are a horrible kisser, Ron Weasley."

"Funny, Lavender doesn't think so. But tell me, was Vicky better at it?" he challenged.

The nerve of him …! She couldn't _stand_ Ron sometimes. More and more often since they had started dating. Why had she accepted to be his girlfriend, anyway? Why did she go out with a boy who couldn't understand her, not that he even tried?

"Lavender? _Lavender?_" she said shrilly. "How dare you mention that – that _cow_, you self-centred, immature, egoistical –" Her eyes dilated and she shook with rage. "I don't know how I could ever think you good-looking, you freckle-faced, ginger-haired, long-nosed prat!"

Ron's ears turned a deep purple and he looked very insulted. "Says the girl who fancied Lockhart!" he sneered. "Maybe you're in it for ambition! Maybe Rita Skeeter got it right. It's a wonder you didn't go after Harry – oh, wait, he isn't that good-looking, is he? I bet – I bet you fancy some Slytherin too! It wouldn't surprise me if you even fancied a Malfoy!"

Hermione's jaw dropped. _Of all the preposterous, ludicrous, absurd –_ She was about to tell Ron that he was absolutely _mad_, but then a wicked idea occurred to her. "Maybe I do," she said, purely to spite Ron. It was a pity that the cloaked figure listening from the shadows didn't know that.

Had she been aware of the person, concealed by an Invisibility Charm, watching from a shadowed corner, perhaps she wouldn't have said it.

For the umpteenth time that day, it was Ron's turn to impersonate a fish out of water. "You – what – you –" he sputtered. "You know what? Why don't you find yourself another boyfriend, if you think I'm not good enough for you? Go find someone better," he challenged once he had regained minimal coherence.

_What a complete bastard …_ Hermione wanted to beat the freckles off him.

From years of experience, Ron should have taken into account that Hermione sometimes tended to sort of _lose her mind_ when really angered. If he had, he would not have been so surprised when her hand struck his face in a sweeping blow.

She hit really hard. Her muscles were strong from carrying dozens of books with her all the time. Her fist collided with his jaw next and then, without pausing to breathe, she punched him in the stomach. Ron was too shocked to do anything but stand there, bewildered, as he was beat up by a girl.

The satisfaction she felt at hitting the git was making her light-headed and she couldn't stop, even when Ron said in a frightened and _very_ pained voice, "Stop! _Hermione!_ Snap out of it, Hermione!"

She swung back her arm to strike him again and paused to decide where to aim so that it would hurt most. She was panting as though she had run a mile; her nostrils flared and she looked fierce, vicious … scary.

"Hermione," croaked Ron, wide-eyed. In guise of an answer, she kicked him between the legs as hard as she could

With a groan of pain, Ron struggled to stand upright. For some reason, this made her angry, and she swung back her fist and brought it down on his face with all her strength.

Ron sank to his knees, blood running down his face. Hermione suspected his nose was broken, but she felt no pity. She only said regretfully, "If only I knew how to cast the Cruciatus Curse …"

"I can teach you," drawled a voice from behind her.

Ron paled. Hermione, however, was so deep in her rage that as she turned around, she didn't even feel frightened. Not the typical reaction when confronted with a Death Eater who had recently escaped from Azkaban. But Hermione only saw a chance to get back at Ron.

"I happened to witness your performance for a few moments … Wholly impressive. Worthy of _respect_, as a matter of fact."

A Death Eater was praising her for her ruthlessness. Could things get any more strange than this? Oh yes, they could. He was also offering to train her in the darkest of the Dark Arts.

His eyes were fixed maliciously on the Weasley boy as he wrapped an arm around the irate girl's shoulders. He smiled cruelly when she did not even react, entirely focused on her anger at the boy.

"You get away from her!" shouted Ron, struggling to get up. "Get your hands off my girlfriend or I'll –"

"_Locomotor Mortis_," the Death Eater said lazily. Ron's legs gave up under him, causing him to collapse on the ground again. "You will what, boy?" the drawling voice mocked. "It doesn't appear as though your _girlfriend_ wants me to, ah, _get away_ from her."

"I'm not your property, Ron," said Hermione defiantly. She was slightly taken aback by the Death Eater's audacity, but she found that she didn't mind it, because it made Ron feel the same way she had felt when he had been snogging Lavender all over the Gryffindor common room last year.

"Teach me, then," she demanded, glaring at Ron's stunned, bloody face.

"Only if you consent to use Weasley here as the practice subject."

"Gladly, sir," Hermione said fiercely, much to Ron's horror.

"No... You're mad," Ron managed through his broken jaw. But he found himself ignored.

The Death Eater withdrew his wand from his pocket, and in a quick jerking movement, had it pointed towards Ron. "The incantation is _Crucio_," he said casually.

Hermione watched as her irksome boyfriend thrashed about, emitting ear-splitting shrieks.

The Death Eater raised his wand. Ron stopped rolling around in the mud but still trembled visibly.

"It is your turn," the Dark wizard told her, "have a try."

Hermione took out her own wand and struggled to imitate the flick he had demonstrated, but she was having difficulty.

Her instructor moved to stand behind her. He reached around her and took hold of her hand – the one in which she held her wand – then guided her through the movement until she did it right. And then he spoke.

"You do want him to suffer, as he repetitively caused you offence … You want to teach him to respect you, to never take you for granted again …"

That was the exact truth, she realised. Ron had made her cry more than anyone else in the wizarding world. He had used her as an excuse to break up with Lavender when he had had enough of such a superficial girlfriend, but was that what he had been expecting of _her_ too? A girl he could snog all over the place, a girl who would fawn over him _and _do his schoolwork? He thought it was _useful_ to have Hermione Granger as a girlfriend? Oh, she would _show_ him.

He kicked her cat, made fun of her because he was jealous of her intelligence, derided everything she found important and put down her every attempt at doing things she found worthwhile and rewarding, such as SPEW. To add to that, he seemed to think they were meant to be together because the fact that their personalities were complete opposites made it, well, _fun_. Because Ron did not want a serious relationship, one in which they would have something to talk about, some things in common.

No, Ron wasn't serious about anything, and romance was no exception. And for that, he _deserved_ it. It was about time she stopped letting him walk all over her.

He deserved it.

She also wanted to prove that she could do the spell right even if she was Muggle-born. To prove herself to all the pure-bloods …

"_Crucio_," she said.

Nothing happened.

"Do not despair. No one can perform an Unforgivable Curse correctly on the first attempt. What you want for is the _intent_, Miss Granger. Intent is essential to succeed at the Dark Arts. You need to desire his pain … to want to be the source of it … to will it with your entire mind.

"Look at Weasley, Miss Granger." She did. "Do you want to punish him?"

"Oh yes," she said at once.

He lazily stroked her back. "Do you want to see him in pain?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to be the cause of that pain?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Then _will_it," he encouraged. "You have the power."

"But look at him, sir – he's already in pain."

"That is inconsequential," he said smoothly. "A simple spell will heal him in an instant. Wouldn't you rather give the boy a more memorable lesson, one he will never forget, so that he never injures your feelings again? Surely you wish to see him in more than a _little_ pain for every careless word he has ever spoken?"

How did this man understand her so well, she wondered, glaring at the terrified Ron. _He deserves it_, she told herself. "_Crucio_!"

Ron let out a scream, but after a few seconds, he was trying to get up, gasping for breath. _Why doesn't it work?_ she thought frantically. She was Hermione Granger, for goodness's sake. There was no spell she couldn't do!

She _wanted_ to do this, dammit – she wanted to show that she could –

"_CRUCIO!_" she shouted, beside herself with anger.

This time, Ron's screams didn't stop. He didn't attempt to stand up again.

Her eyes fixed on the writhing form of her boyfriend, Hermione was unaware of the triumphant, calculating look in the cold grey eyes of the man who had just taught her one of the Darkest and most illegal curses known to wizardkind.

He had gained his Lord a new servant, a spy no one would ever suspect. The Dark Lord would be pleased …

And he had found a young mistress with a highly alluring body, and who wasn't averse to his advances … even if it was only to get even with Weasley, or so _she_ thought.

"Very good," he said. "My dear girl, you impress me."

She grinned proudly. But when she removed her wand to give poor Ron a reprieve, she still felt it hadn't been enough for years of making fun of her and tormenting her by being with Lavender last year. She had really liked Ron once … even though she had wished nothing more than for him to be pecked to death by her conjured pigeons.

But this – none of this was revenge enough. And at this point in time, there was only one other thing she could come up with that would account for the wrongs her _former_ boyfriend had done. In fact, it would be the ultimate vengeance … There was nothing that could hurt Ron more …

And there was nothing she wanted more than to settle the scores with the freckled git.

Hermione looked mischievously at the fair-haired Death Eater, and somehow he seemed to understand, because his arms readily encircled her waist when she tilted her head up to kiss him, watching Ron out of the corner of her eye.

Now _he_ was a really good kisser …

This wasn't at all like Ron's brash, pushy smooching. This was delicate, unhurried, yet unmistakeably deep and passionate. The sort of kiss that made Hermione's knees weak and left her light-headed, winded and longing for more. This spoke of finesse, of someone who was in control and fully aware of it, and who was determined to make her enjoy every second.

Hermione wrapped her arms raptly around the neck of the man kissing her. Through half-closed eyes, she could see Ron's look of horror, and triumph coursed through her veins, pure, sweet triumph.

The Dark wizard thoroughly enjoyed the pain and rage in Weasley's eyes as the boy watched his girlfriend melt in the arms of another man, and not just anyone but a hated enemy. Tormenting a Weasley – any Weasley – was always an enjoyable activity. And it seemed that the girl agreed with him.

She moved back, breathless.

"Is it true?" he asked her.

"Is what true?"

He caressed her cheek. "What you said to Weasley …"

"Which part?" she enquired.

"When you said – ah – '_maybe I do_'," he repeated her words back at her. "Do you really?"

She stared at him thoughtfully. She had only said that to infuriate Ron … hadn't she?

She felt nothing but loathing towards Draco Malfoy, the conceited, annoying boy who had called her a Mudblood too many times to count and behaved even more immaturely than Ron. But his father was another matter entirely.

She didn't really fancy Lucius Malfoy, even though the Death Eater _did_ have some qualities that fit her idea of the ideal man… right? Right?

Now that she thought of it …

She glanced at him, taking in the glossy shine of his pale hair, the way his black robes accentuated the aristocratic pallor of his face and how his piercing grey eyes never left hers, and she wasn't so sure anymore. A terrifying thought came to Hermione: _maybe Ron was right._

"I don't know," she answered, her voice low and husky for some reason.

He said nothing. His pale hand moved to sift through her bushy hair and he kissed her again, just as intensely.

There was another thing Ron lacked: experience and knowledge of how to please a woman.

"Do you really, _Hermione_?" he repeated, his voice a soft taunt in her ear. The sound of him speaking her first name sent a shiver though her.

"I – I think so."

He looked delighted. "Dear, dear … the friend of Harry Potter has sentiments for a Death Eater. How startling … _improper_, in fact." Hermione blushed. "But there is no need to worry, my girl," he drawled. There was a cruel gleam in his eyes. "I'll keep your secret."

"I'm sure you will." She met his frosty gaze levelly. They weren't so different anymore, now that she had cast an Unforgivable and enjoyed it. That alone condemned her, in the eyes of the Ministry; it made her a Dark witch. "Does it matter that you are a Death Eater? You don't look like you're going to kill me, right now," she said matter-of-factly.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Why on earth would you teach someone a Dark spell only to kill them afterwards? I don't think you are the sort of person who would waste their time like that. And I doubt you'd want to kill a woman who – as you said – has _sentiments_ for you. At least not until you've tried to get her to join Lord Voldemort."

He fought not to show his surprise. She had seen right through him.

What a clever, intriguing girl, this one … He was sure he wanted to get to know her better.

"Does that mean you are accepting the offer I haven't yet made?" he said promptly.

"Why wouldn't I?" she replied. _Anything to get back at Ron!_

He was surprised by the quick answer, and the determination in her eyes almost made him shudder. He recalled the look on her face as she rained blow after blow upon the Weasley boy with no sign of her anger waning. She had looked murderous with her eyes flashing like that, her hair flying wildly around her. It was impressive and also a little alarming; he had been reminded of Bellatrix. He would take care never to anger her as her former boyfriend had.

"I should thank Ron," mused Hermione.

"Speaking of Weasley …" He looked over to where her ex-boyfriend lay unconscious, and Hermione saw a cold smile on his face as he aimed his wand at the motionless lump of red hair and black Hogwarts robes. "_Obliviate_!"

Ron's form twitched, but gave no other reaction.

* * *

"Ron!" called Hermione cheerfully.

"What?" he said testily, propping himself up on his bed in the hospital wing.

Mr Malfoy had modified Ron's memory so that while he remembered his argument with Hermione, he thought he had been attacked _afterwards_ by a masked assailant who had beat and cursed him. That was how he had woken up bruised on a street in Hogsmeade with no clue as to who had done it, and had barely managed to drag himself back to Hogwarts and to the hospital wing.

"You were right, Ron," she said simply.

"Right about what?" he said with a self-satisfied expression. But it didn't bother Hermione, who couldn't wait to see how spectacularly the prat's look would change at her next words.

"Everything," said Hermione, "so I listened to your advice. I've found a new boyfriend, like you suggested."

Ron stared at her with his mouth open. His ears were turning a deep red. "What?" he managed, sounding as though he was being trampled by a herd of Hippogriffs.

She ignored the question entirely. "Thanks to you, Ron, I found the perfect boyfriend. You were right, you are not the guy for me – but he is everything you aren't. He's good-looking, mature, intelligent, rich, famous, and a perfect gentleman." She paused, then added smugly, "And a damn good kisser too."

Ron's face went redder with each word. "WHO IS IT?" he shouted, to the alarm of Madam Pomfrey. But Ron did not seem to be aware of where he was anymore.

Hermione spoke much more quietly this time. "When I said he's famous … well, maybe _infamous _is a more appropriate word. I mean, to have escaped from Azkaban, murdering several Aurors in the process, isn't most people's idea of celebrity."

Ron's face was slowly turning from red to green. "Who …"

Hermione whispered in his ear.

Ron fainted.

END

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